"Well, well," said I. "We'll know more about him some day soon, perhaps, that is, if we stay long enough at the Hill of Rakh. He has a hiding thereabouts--without a doubt. Your father is pining to open the tomb of Ptahmes, I suppose, Miss Ottley?" "He has opened it," she answered. "Oh!" I exclaimed--and stopped dead in the act of naming Sir Robert a thankless perjurer. The girl was looking at me hard. "You are surprised?" "Curious," I growled. It was hard to say, for I was furious. "I cannot enlighten your curiosity," she said. "No?" "He permitted no one to be present to assist him. It took place the day before yesterday in the cave temple. And the tomb is now closed again." "You are then unaware what is discovered?" "Perfectly." "And Sir Robert?" "You will find my father greatly changed, Dr. Pinsent." "Indeed." "He seems to be quite strong, but he has aged notably, and he will hardly condescend to converse with anyone, even me. Moreover, the subject of Ptahmes is tabooed. The very name enrages him. Dr. Belleville has forbidden it to be mentioned in his hearing." "Humph!" said I. "If my donkey were alive I should go to Kwansu straight. But as it is I shall have to trespass for a stretch on your preserves at Rakh. I hate it, too, for your father has broken faith with me." "Ah!" cried the girl. "He promised that you should help him open the tomb." "Exactly." "You must not be hard on him. I believe that he is not quite himself." "Oh! I am accustomed to that sort of treatment from the Ottleys," I replied. It was brutal beyond question, but I was past reckoning on niceties with rage. Captain Weldon turned scarlet and raised his whip. "Dr. Pinsent," he cried, "you forget yourself. For two pins----" then he stopped--having met my eyes. I laughed in his face. "Why not?" I queried jibingly. "It would be not only chivalrous--a lady looking on--but safe. Have you ever seen a St. Bernard hurt a spaniel?" He went deathly and slashed me with his whip. Poor boy. I never blamed him. I'd have done the same myself. As for me, the blow descended and cooled my beastly temper, which was an unmitigated blessing. I took his whip away and gave it back to him. Then I laughed out, tickled at the humour of the situation, though it only told against myself. "I had intended accepting your offer of your mule for my belongings," I chuckled. "You haven't offered him, but that's a detail. And now I can't." I shook with laughter. Weldon leaped on instant to the ground. "Do, do!" he almost groaned. He was a generous youngster. "And forgive me!" he said. "If you can--it was a coward blow." "Gladly I'll forgive you," I replied, and we clasped hands. "I'll help you load the beast," said he. But I put my foot on my baggage. "That mule," I said, "belongs to Sir Robert Ottley. I'll not risk the breaking of his back." We looked at one another and I saw the Captain understood me. He turned rather sheepishly away, but did not mount immediately.